It
seemed that she was doing a lot of self-convincing that
night.
The sun rose, streaming in
bright ribbons over the bed promising another warm day. Blake
pushed Hunter and Casey, eager to get to the fort. He was looking
forward to leaving them and getting on with his life, so he tried
to convince himself. Getting far away from the little snit that
confused his emotions would be the only way to regain his
senses. Keep telling yourself that! And he hated it when she rode ahead, her back
ramrod straight and cute bottom bouncing in rhythm with the horse.
So many times he forced his stubborn eyes to look in another
direction because his own saddle was becoming unbearably
uncomfortable. Last night’s visit with a soiled dove did nothing to
relive his ache for the girl. Damn! Damn!
Damn!
You would think after baths, clean clothes
and a whore, he would have been in a cheerful mood. Well, that
wasn’t the case. He was miserable and was in no better a mood
leaving the town then when he arrived. And with a hangover, he
didn’t have any enthusiasm, even though he was in a hurry to reach
his destination.
***
Hunter was filled with remorse putting his
sister through all of this. He no longer held any animosity against
Blake. He was decent and his kindness proved it; the cowboy was
doing his job and he was treated fairly. He wondered if he should
ask Blake to care for his sister. Someone had to since he was doing
poorly in that department. The issue on his mind was; would she be
better off alone or under the cowboy’s protection?
He had seen the way Blake kept eyeing Casey.
And he didn’t miss his sister gazing with cow eyes at the man;
there was an attraction to be sure. There were no doubts in his
mind that when his back was turned, she’d be in Blake’s arms, but
could she find happiness with the drifter? Well, her fate was no
longer in his hands and who was he to say whom she should love? His
sister proved to be much wiser than he and she had an uncanny sense
of knowing things. He trusted her instincts before his own, besides
Blake was a man, not a saint.
But in the end, it came down to one thing:
he had certainly made a mess of things!
EIGHT
Casey and her weary companions sat on their
tired horses overlooking Fort Tate, in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. She had
never begged for anything in her life, but this was her brother and
she decided to swallow her pride and reason with Blake. She turned
in her saddle and choked out a plea. “Please let my brother go,
he’s so young and it was his first time.” Her eyes watered with
remorse. She watched Blake’s profile falter a little and saw the
muscles in his jaw flex. She was certain he wouldn’t honor her
request. Sadly, she was right and she shuddered, holding in a flood
of tears that threatened to break behind her lids. She would never
beg again. Hunter’s fate was in her hands and she’d not fail him
this time.
Slamming his hat down further over his face,
Blake tugged on Hunter’s reins to bring his prisoner’s horse
forward and led him to the fort. He called to the sentry and the
gates opened up to let them in. She followed wondering how he could
be such a cold hearted man when his lips were so hot.
Oh, how she hated that bastard! If she could
only convince herself that!
Casey felt as if she was riding through the
gates of hell. And it could well have been. The cowboy tied his
horse by a large barracks where she noticed many army men and some
women mulling around looking their way. They were curious at seeing
three strangers ride in. Blake helped her brother down and she
dismounted, feeling her skin crawl being under many eyes. A private
addressed the cowboy and then opened the door for them. She
followed so utterly miserable that she barely heard the uniform man
announce them.
“Lieutenant,” saluted the soldier, “Blake
January and his prisoner arrived.” Casey assumed a wire had been
sent ahead for his arrival.
“Lieutenant Shepherd at
your
seemed that she was doing a lot of self-convincing that
night.
The sun rose, streaming in
bright ribbons over the bed promising another warm day. Blake
pushed Hunter and Casey, eager to get to the fort. He was looking
forward to leaving them and getting on with his life, so he tried
to convince himself. Getting far away from the little snit that
confused his emotions would be the only way to regain his
senses. Keep telling yourself that! And he hated it when she rode ahead, her back
ramrod straight and cute bottom bouncing in rhythm with the horse.
So many times he forced his stubborn eyes to look in another
direction because his own saddle was becoming unbearably
uncomfortable. Last night’s visit with a soiled dove did nothing to
relive his ache for the girl. Damn! Damn!
Damn!
You would think after baths, clean clothes
and a whore, he would have been in a cheerful mood. Well, that
wasn’t the case. He was miserable and was in no better a mood
leaving the town then when he arrived. And with a hangover, he
didn’t have any enthusiasm, even though he was in a hurry to reach
his destination.
***
Hunter was filled with remorse putting his
sister through all of this. He no longer held any animosity against
Blake. He was decent and his kindness proved it; the cowboy was
doing his job and he was treated fairly. He wondered if he should
ask Blake to care for his sister. Someone had to since he was doing
poorly in that department. The issue on his mind was; would she be
better off alone or under the cowboy’s protection?
He had seen the way Blake kept eyeing Casey.
And he didn’t miss his sister gazing with cow eyes at the man;
there was an attraction to be sure. There were no doubts in his
mind that when his back was turned, she’d be in Blake’s arms, but
could she find happiness with the drifter? Well, her fate was no
longer in his hands and who was he to say whom she should love? His
sister proved to be much wiser than he and she had an uncanny sense
of knowing things. He trusted her instincts before his own, besides
Blake was a man, not a saint.
But in the end, it came down to one thing:
he had certainly made a mess of things!
EIGHT
Casey and her weary companions sat on their
tired horses overlooking Fort Tate, in Tuscaloosa, Alabama. She had
never begged for anything in her life, but this was her brother and
she decided to swallow her pride and reason with Blake. She turned
in her saddle and choked out a plea. “Please let my brother go,
he’s so young and it was his first time.” Her eyes watered with
remorse. She watched Blake’s profile falter a little and saw the
muscles in his jaw flex. She was certain he wouldn’t honor her
request. Sadly, she was right and she shuddered, holding in a flood
of tears that threatened to break behind her lids. She would never
beg again. Hunter’s fate was in her hands and she’d not fail him
this time.
Slamming his hat down further over his face,
Blake tugged on Hunter’s reins to bring his prisoner’s horse
forward and led him to the fort. He called to the sentry and the
gates opened up to let them in. She followed wondering how he could
be such a cold hearted man when his lips were so hot.
Oh, how she hated that bastard! If she could
only convince herself that!
Casey felt as if she was riding through the
gates of hell. And it could well have been. The cowboy tied his
horse by a large barracks where she noticed many army men and some
women mulling around looking their way. They were curious at seeing
three strangers ride in. Blake helped her brother down and she
dismounted, feeling her skin crawl being under many eyes. A private
addressed the cowboy and then opened the door for them. She
followed so utterly miserable that she barely heard the uniform man
announce them.
“Lieutenant,” saluted the soldier, “Blake
January and his prisoner arrived.” Casey assumed a wire had been
sent ahead for his arrival.
“Lieutenant Shepherd at
your
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